


Through the Trees

by Cof2e2



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt Stiles, Post-Episode: s03e22 De-Void, Post-Nogitsune Stiles Stilinski, Run-On Sentences, Scared Stiles, Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Scott is a Good Friend, Stiles Has Issues, Stiles Has Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-11
Updated: 2014-04-11
Packaged: 2018-01-19 00:59:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1449412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cof2e2/pseuds/Cof2e2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is back, but he doesn't know it yet. <br/>Stiles finds himself sitting on the floor of Scott's living room and he's sure it's a trick, just like everything else has been while he's been a prisoner in his own mind. This is another game of the Nogitsune, it has to be. There is absolutely no way he will be fooled into thinking he's really free.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Through the Trees

**Author's Note:**

> For the purposes of this story Stiles was not just trapped in his mind by the Nogitsune, but was tortured and tormented by it as well. Also, he is not aware of what the Nogitsune was doing with his body other than occasional glimpses. Otherwise canon compliant.   
> Trigger warning for somewhat detailed description of panic attacks.  
> Mentions of torture but not described.

Through the Trees

 

“Scott?”

Stiles hears his voice crack on that one word, though he can’t really be sure that it is his voice. Scott is there holding onto his arm and for some reason Peter is there too, right in his face and then Scott is gone and Stiles can hear him yelling for Lydia. Stiles can’t bring himself to be concerned over the apparent disappearance of the love of his life because 1.) He has no idea what is happening, and 2.) He is fairly sure this isn’t real. He brings his hands in front of his face to count his fingers, to check if this is a dream, but he finds that they are wrapped in gauze. The same way he has always seen the Nogitsune. The panic swells in his chest because, yes, obviously this is not real; this is another trick of the Nogitsune. He is still trapped in his own head and the Nogitsune is still running about in his body, hurting his friends. And soon it will be hurting him too. Because that’s what happens. That’s what always happens. He thinks something is real, he is sure of it. He thinks he is out of his own head, he thinks he and his friends are finally safe, but then the Nogitsune twists everything around and he discovers that no, it was never real, he is still a prisoner in his own mind, and then the pain comes.

Stiles didn’t know that one could be tortured inside one’s own head, but apparently it can happen, because it has been happening. The Nogitsune has been finding new and creative ways to hurt him, pain and fire and blood, but worse are the times when he is not in physical pain, because that is when the Nogitsune shows him things that he doesn’t want to see. Family, friends, all dying, often at his own hand. And his mother. Time and time again he is shown his mother, and sometimes she is healthy like he remembers when he was small, and other times she is sick and confused and doesn’t know him, like she was at the end. And she is usually telling him that it is his fault that she is dead. Often his father shows up and lets him know that he agrees. As painful as those tricks are to see, they are the easiest for him to spot as fake. Because even while being tormented in his head he knows that his parents would never say those things to him. He knows that the guilt he feels over his mother’s death is an internal fear and that the Nogitsune is playing off that.

This has all been happening in his head, on some level he knows that, but it doesn’t stop it from hurting and it doesn’t stop it from _feeling_ like it is real. And he just wants it to be over. But he won’t be tricked again. He won’t be fooled into thinking that this is real, that he is really in Scott’s living room, sitting on the floor wrapped in gauze and clothes that are not his own. Because as soon as he trusts it then it will all change back to the pain, and that moment of belief, of hope, makes the despair of realizing the truth all the worse. That there is no way out, and that he will be trapped in his own head, the plaything of the Nogitsune, for the rest of his life,

He finds himself pulling desperately at the bandages wrapping his hands and the ones remaining on his head and neck. It doesn’t matter that this isn’t real, he wants them off. They are constricting and suffocating and being trapped in one’s own head is claustrophobic enough, he doesn’t need the not-really-there bandages adding to it. His fingers don’t seem to be working right, and not just because of the gauze restricting his movements. They feel stiff and weak and clumsy and achy. So does the rest of his body if he stops to think about it, but he doesn’t stop to think about it because the only thing in his head is that he wants the damn bandagesoff _now_.

He has not managed to succeed in freeing himself from the gauze, in fact he thinks that he may have made it worse. They are more tangled and restricting than before, but he can’t seem to make himself stop pulling at them. Peter is no longer in front of him, but then Deaton suddenly is, reaching out to him, and Stiles isn’t sure if it’s to help or to hurt, but it doesn’t matter because this isn’t real and he doesn’t want the not-really-Deaton touching him. He pushes himself away, scrambling back as best as his uncooperative limbs will let him. He nearly topples over, but Deaton’s hand steadies him, and it’s not hurting him, not any more than he already hurts, but that will change soon enough, because this is a game that the Nogitsune likes to play. It will show him people that he knows and trusts, and they will help him, he thinks they will save him, but then they will hurt him or say horrible things to him before they transform back into the Nogitsune. And Stiles is not going to sit by and let that happen again, not without a fight. He may not be able to accomplish anything by fighting, but damned if he was going to stop trying.

Stiles figures he will be dead sooner than later and he won’t be able to face his mom in the afterlife unless he can tell her that he gave it his all, because that is a promise that he made to her in one of her final lucid moments. Along with promising her that he would look after his dad she also made him promise to “Live. Just live. And never give up.” In retrospect he knows that maybe she wasn’t really as lucid in that moment as she seemed to be to his 9-year-old brain, but he likes to think that she was. The last several days he has even wondered if she knew something that he didn’t at the time. That in her last few days on earth maybe she was able to catch a glimpse of something that hadn’t happened yet and maybe she somehow knew all this was coming. He hopes that she will forgive him for giving in and letting the Nogitsune take him over, because to him that wasn’t giving up. That was the only way to save Malia, and he thinks that his mom would understand that. Maybe even be proud of him for it.

So he fights. His arms are weak and won’t follow his commands for them to move as well as he would like, but they _do_ move. He pushes Deaton away and he knows that there wasn’t much strength in the uncoordinated shove he delivers to Deaton’s chest, but Deaton allows it, moving back to give him some space. He watches Deaton for a moment, and the older man seems to be saying something. Stiles can tell he is speaking only by the movement of his lips, but for the life of him he cannot hear what is being said over the ringing in his head and the sounds of his own harsh breathing and frantically beathing heart.

Something in Stiles remembers that this is what it feels like to have a panic attack, right down to the tingling numbness he feels starting in his fingers. The part of his mind that is capable of reason pipes up to let him know that is because hyperventilating is not conducive to proper oxygenation of the body and that the extremities farthest from the heart are the first to feel the effects of oxygen deprivation. Hence the unpleasant feeling creeping into his hands and feet. Stiles knows from past experience that the feeling will spread if the panic attack doesn’t stop, and eventually if it gets very bad, the muscles in his hands will start to contract to the point where he won’t be able to open them.

Stiles registers all this on a rather academic level. It’s all rather moot at this point, because while this may _feel_ like a panic attack, it really isn’t, because it isn’t real.

Stiles stops trying to determine what not-really-Deaton is saying and focuses back on the bandages he is trying to untangle from his hands. He continues to succeed in doing little more than making the tangles worse. Twice more Deaton tries to reach out, but both times Stiles reacts with flailing limbs and attempts to escape, so the vet seems to give up, backing away with his hands raised in a placating gesture. Though Stiles isn’t sure why because he obviously lacks the ability to properly defend himself should the issue be pressed. He has a brief awareness that Melissa is there too. She crouches down next to Deaton, though slightly behind him as if she might require him to defend her from Stiles. Which is odd because this clearly isn’t one of the times that the Nogitsune is going to make him hurt people. He has a tenuous control of his own body at the moment, unlike the dreams (or hallucinations, or whatever you call being tormented by a demon while trapped in your own head) where he is aware of what his body is doing, but is unable to control it while his hands carry out acts of torture on the people he loves. Those times he is able to do nothing more than scream and scream in his head, while at the same time he feels a smile stretch across what is not really his face. He much prefers the times that the Nogitsune is torturing him with whips and chains and fire because Stiles has always been able to handle his own pain better than watching someone else’s.

Stiles glances back to not-really-Melissa and sees that she is speaking also, but she makes no attempt to touch him. She looks afraid and Stiles wonders if she is afraid of him or for him or both, but then he reminds himself it doesn’t matter because this isn’t Melissa and he isn’t himself and nothing is real and maybe he is already dead and that would be better than if his body is really walking around with the Nogitsune controlling it.

His brain flits to the memory of the look on Melissa’s face when the Nogitsune is telling her about how Stiles knows why Scott’s father was gone and how Scott would hate her if he knew the truth. Stiles thinks that was real, though he isn’t completely sure. Sometimes the Nogitsune lets him see what his body is doing, especially when it is something particularly horrible. But it is hard for him to tell when it was a trick. Still, Stiles wishes that he could apologize to Melissa and let her know that is wasn’t true, and there was nothing she could ever do to make her son hate her. Stiles almost says this, but doesn’t let himself because that would mean pretending at least a little bit that this is real. So he says nothing. He is fairly sure that he wouldn’t be able to anyway because this panic attack that is not a panic attack is killing him and he doesn’t know if there is enough air in his lungs to allow him to speak.

He returns his attention to the bandages because that is what is important right now and he needs to stop being so damn distractible if he wants to get them off. But his fingers are uncoordinated and numb and shaking and Stiles hears a sob of frustration escape his chest. He gives up attempts to get the horrible things off and instead wraps his arms around himself and pretends they are his mother’s arms, hugging and giving him comfort. That was always what he did when he had panic attacks when he was young, though usually his father would show up and hug him instead and that would make him feel better because his dad made him feel safe and loved, even if it wasn’t exactly what he wanted. He wished his dad was here now even if it isn’t real. But then he is glad he isn’t here because if Stiles saw his father right at that moment he wouldn’t care that it was a trick, but would hug the man and cling to him and tell him he loved him for however many seconds he was allowed before the dream turned into a nightmare.

A hand touches Stiles’ shoulder and he flinches away, curling in on himself, trying to protect himself from the pain that is sure to come. He has lost the little strength he has and gives up on the flailing and trying to get away for the moment because there will be time for that later since there is no escape in his own head. He just wants to rest for a moment. He feels himself crying, tears falling down his face and small whimpering noises coming from his mouth. The panic has faded some, and he feels like he can breathe again. He thinks that his body just did not have the energy to continue the panic attack that is not a panic attack, and the fear is still there, but he can’t bring himself to really do anything about it. He wonders how his mom would feel about him giving up, and he spares a thought to let her know that he will fight later when he isn’t so freaking tired.

The hand is still on his shoulder and now there is another hand on his other shoulder too. He tries to shrug them off but he can’t muster the energy to do much more than that. He can actually hear someone speaking now, and he knows that it’s Scott’s voice even if he can’t quite put together what he is saying quite yet. He knows Scott left the room at the beginning of this dream and he is back now. Stiles wonders how much time has passed between then and now. It simultaneously feels like forever and no time at all. But that seems to always be the case now. He can’t even be sure how long it has been since the basement where he let the Nogitsune in to save Malia’s life. It could have been hours or days or weeks. It could even have been years. He _feels_ like he has aged several years since then.

“It might not be him. This could just be another trick.”

That was Melissa’s voice. It seems that Stiles had finally recovered the ability to interpret the voices around him but the words themselves don’t make sense because of course this is a trick but he is the one that the Nogitsune is trying to fool. After all this is his head. So why does Melissa sound like she is the one who is concerned?

“It’s him, mom. I know it’s him this time. I can smell his emotions and the Nogitsune definitely wouldn’t feel like he does right now.”

“You can’t be certain, Scott,” Deaton’s voice. “He’s tricked you before. He’s tricked all of us.”

Why are they talking like this? This is supposed to be _his_ head. Stiles thinks this may be some new torture the Nigitsune is trying out since is hasn’t been able to convince him lately that the things in his head are real. This is some new attempt to fool him and Stiles wants to believe it so badly but it is so much worse to have hope and lose it than to just not have hope at all. So he doesn’t let himself hope. _Not real._ He reminds himself. _Not real, not real, not real._ He realizes that he is speaking out loud, chanting that mantra to himself and he is sure that he sounds insane but who cares, because it’s only him and the Nogitsune in here so who is he trying to fool by pretending that he isn’t slowly losing his mind?

“Not real. It isn’t real, can’t trick me, it isn’t real,” the words tumble out though he doesn’t recall ordering his mouth to speak. “Won’t trick me. Nothing’s real.”

“Stiles, this is real, I swear it’s real.” Scott’s voice again, and Stiles is afraid to look at him because he will either turn into the Nogitsune or he will remain Scott trying to trick him and both options are equally terrifying. Stiles remains hunched over, hugging himself, eyes tightly closed.

He wishes he could get up, to run away or try to hide. But he feels so weak and his muscles hurt and it takes everything he has just to stay semi-upright. He can’t make himself flee, but he won’t let himself be manipulated again either. Keeping his eyes closed to ignore not-really-Scott and not-really-Melissa and not-really-Deaton while hugging himself and pretending that his arms are his mother’s is the best he can do. “A trick,” he whispers and another sob escapes and Stiles realizes just how broken he sounds and wonders what the point of fighting is anyway, when it’s so clear the Nogitsune has already won. But he won’t dishonor his mother by breaking his promise to her.

“Stiles, it’s not a trick, it’s real. I promise. I can prove it to you if you just look at me.”

Stiles feels a tiny spark of hope before he can crush it down and now that it’s there it’s too late. He feels another sob in his chest at his failure. “Please stop,” he chokes out, the words weak and painful.

“Stiles, trust me for just a minute. Just give me one minute and I can prove it to you.”

Hell if Scott doesn’t sound like he’s about to cry and that more than anything else gets Stiles to look up. He braces himself for Scott to turn into the Nogitsune or start hurting him or both, but it’s just Scott in front of him, teary-eyes and looking for all the world like a sad puppy. No pain comes, and all Scott does is remove his hands from Stiles’ shoulders. He holds both his closed hands in front of Stiles and raises one finger on one hand and waits. Stiles realizes that he is supposed to count and can’t help being confused because why would the Nogitsune want him to do the one thing that would prove for certain this isn’t real?

Stiles hesitates for what feels like a long time but Scott doesn’t move, just waits.

“One,” Stiles finally whispers.

Scott holds up a second finger.

Stiles doesn’t continue right away but Scott just waits. “Two.” He finally says.

A third finger appears.

Again, Stiles doesn’t respond immediately, but Scott seems to have all the time in the world. He doesn’t help Stiles count or push him to continue, almost as if he knows that Stiles can’t believe a word that will come out of his mouth. He just waits. Stiles eyes slide over to Melissa and Deaton, and Deaton seems to be approving of the way this is going, because he offers a small smile and a nod, but also doesn’t say anything. Melissa just looks worried.

Stiles looks back to Scott, whose looks so hopeful and pleading. But eyes can lie so Stiles looks back to Scott’s hands. “Three… Four… Five…” Stiles finishes counting the fingers on Scott’s left hand and shifts his attention to the right. Stiles can’t count fast enough now and he wishes Scott would go quicker. The hope in his chest is swelling to the point that it’s painful and Stiles thinks that if this turns out to be a trick again it might just kill him this time. “Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten…”

Stiles take a deep breath, lungs starved for oxygen because it seems he forgot to breathe for a moment. He spares a glance at Scott’s face then looks back to his best friend’s hands. He counts out loud again, then one more time. After the third time Scott can tell he’s finished and drops his hands, then reaches out and takes hold of Stiles’ arm.

“Ten.” Scott says to Stiles.

Stiles waits for elation or at least relief to hit him, but he just feels numb and his brain is still trying to process the concept that, yes, this does indeed seem to be real.

“Scotty?” Stiles asks, and he thinks he may have sounded like a little kid just there but he can’t feel embarrassed about it because Scott is hugging him tight and he is solid and real and this isn’t a dream and everything just feels like too much but then he’s hugging Scott back and he can’t stop the tears that had slowed down but are now back in full force.

His mouth is operating against his permission again and he’s not entirely sure what is coming out of it but he knows he keeps saying Scott’s name and apologizing and maybe even pleading for something, but he’s not sure what it is. He may have asked for is dad at one point, at least he thinks he does, because Scott is assuring him that his dad is fine, and they’ll get him soon. He asks what happened but Scott only tells him “Later.”

Scott tries to pull away after a few minutes, but Stiles summons strength he didn’t know he had left and clings tighter to Scott, refusing to let him go. Even on Stiles’ best day Scott is about fifty times stronger than him, but Scott lets him be in control, and the hug continues for several more minutes. Eventually the burst of energy Stiles felt dissipates and he practically collapses even though he’s already sitting. But Scott doesn’t let him slump to the floor like his body wants to do, and instead picks Stiles up off the floor and places him on the couch. Once he is on the couch he tries to grab for Scott again, terrified that if his best friend, his _brother,_ leaves his side this will all shatter and go back to the nightmare. But Scott doesn’t leave, he sits behind Stiles and let 147 pounds of pale skin and fragile bone rest against him until Stiles is practically lying in his lap.

Someone takes Stiles’ hand and Stiles opens his eyes, not having realized they had closed. Melissa is holding his arm and removing the disgusting bandages for him. He can see that she is still nervous, still not 100% convinced he is himself. Stiles can’t blame her for that since he is not sure either, but at the moment he just wants to be where he is and feel safe and not think about anything else. He tries to tell her thank you but he is pretty sure that the words don’t actually come out. She gives him a small smile and reaches over to gently stroke his forehead for a moment, because she is Melissa and she can’t help being reassuring, even if he might be a monster. Scott is removing the last of the gauze from his head and neck and Stiles struggles to continue watching them both work, but his eyes don’t want to stay open any longer.

“Rest,” Scott tells him.

“Can’t,” Stiles answers. “Want to stay here. Can’t sleep. Can’t go back to the dream.” His words are slurred with exhaustion and he wonders if they were even intelligible, but as always, Scott understands him.

“You won’t. Sleep, and I’ll be right here. I promise I’ll be right here when you wake up. We all will.”

Scott continues to whisper soothing things but Stiles can already feel himself drifting off. A part of his mind whispers words to make him doubt his safety, telling him he shouldn’t sleep because that will be the end of this because surely it isn’t really real. But it is real and Scott promised and Scott always keeps his promises. So Stiles allows sleep to take him.


End file.
